


Silent Songbird

by Ostrava



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, Hanahaki Disease, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Past Relationship(s), Self-Worth Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28459923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ostrava/pseuds/Ostrava
Summary: Lindir has flowers growing within his lungs once more, for him this is a sign that Elrond loves him no more. He sees leaving Imladris behind as a solution.
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel/Lindir, Glorfindel/Erestor (background)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Silent Songbird

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in a while and I was looking at some old files and found this fic I had left there, it's almost finished and I said 'Why not?' and here it is.
> 
> Songs that helped write this (and are recommended to listen to while reading the fic):  
> Slow Burn by Apocalyptica  
> Untouchable Part 1 & 2 by Anathema  
> Mercy Mirror by Within Temptation  
> Forever Walking Alone by Dragonland
> 
> Please enjoy!

* * *

It started long before he was able to realize that there was indeed something wrong in the first place. As such, Lindir began to doubt and distance himself, while he constantly tried to be subtle about it. Until one day the minstrel concluded that it had finally come to pass; that Elrond had finally realized that he doesn't love Lindir anymore, or worse yet, he never had any sort of feelings for the minstrel in the first place. And of course Lindir accepted it as the most obvious outcome, for what was he other than a lowly elf? Just an attendant who dreamed too much and had aimed too high. How could have he come to believe that it was possible to attain a happy ending by going over his station and place in life?

Lord Elrond had been elusive for a while, as if he was keeping something from Lindir, but what was it? The younger ellon had not known until one day when he had asked the lord of Imladris what worried him so, and Elrond simply smiled in that way that told him he was hiding something and was not willing to tell him so. It was then that it occurred to the minstrel that perhaps Elrond did not wanted to be with him anymore but knew not how to tell Lindir. By the Valar, that the minstrel had hoped in vain that it was not true, that all that he had in mind was wrong and yet, in his hands he held the proof and the reason of all the fears that often whispered in his mind. It had all suddenly come true in the blink of an eye.

Lindir refused to think otherwise as well, he did not listen to that small voice in his head that told him it was not that Elrond did not love him, that it was _something else_ , yet those thoughts that spoke to him of hope were crushed under the weight of his darker ruminations.

The young elf nodded to himself as he stared down at the bright purple flowers in his hands, they reminded him of a river as some of the loose petals just fell in a manner similar to a brightly colored waterfall. The minstrel knows without a doubt that Elrond finally realized that he deserved someone better, or perhaps was reminded of the fact that the Lady Celebrian awaits him in the Undying Lands. And he cannot blame his lord at all, Lindir had expected it to happen, it all makes perfect sense really.

But even if he had been expecting it to happen, it did hurt a lot. And now he was not sure what was worse, having his lungs full of flowers or his heart broken into a thousand pieces.

Lindir closed his eyes as he crushed the few petals that were left in his grasp, how could have he been so _foolish_? How could have he believed that it was possible for a lord of such high regard to see him as nothing more than a passing fancy? A temporary lover at most.

He was no one of importance. He had nothing to offer, he did not belong to nor had any connections to any of the prestigious elven houses that once existed, he was nothing more than an attendant and a musician, and he had always considered that he himself was plain in looks and unremarkable in what he was supposed to excel at. In truth, Lindir had always considered that what he could offer was less than what Elrond truly deserved.

He cannot blame anyone but himself for being so naive as to think Elrond would want to remain with him. That a lord would choose a lowly minstrel as his companion for the rest of his life, the fact was that at the end of the day, that notion was absolutely impossible. A dream, beautiful in one's mind but impossible to realize in the real world after it fades away into the memories of the hopeful that cannot make it into a tangible thing.

Lindir shakes his head as a few tears make their way down his face, it hurts, that much is true. But he had to accept it, even if it felt as if salt was being poured into an open wound in the minstrel's chest. The flowers had returned and the reasons were more than obvious and Lindir simply accepted it all, it was his lot in life anyway. He had no reason to think otherwise. He had once before overcome the flowers that had grown within his lungs, he had believed they would not return since the day Elrond had kissed him in the gardens; the cold silver light of the moon falling upon them both as if it was a veil. Both the minstrel and the peredhel stood under a cedar tree, it was then that Elrond had declared that he reciprocated the minstrel's feelings a handful of years ago.

Apparently his feelings of _'love'_ hadn't been enough, _he_ himself hadn't been enough... Elrond had finally realized that the love he had once proclaimed to feel for Lindir had been nothing more than a passing fancy, and now the minstrel was paying the price for trying to love someone he shouldn't have ever laid eyes upon. He cannot say he is surprised, for he somehow had expected this day to arrive. He had just hoped that it didn't have to be so _soon_.

So he decided to ignore it all and avoid the lord of Imladris as much as he was able. He took as many chores as the day would permit and distanced himself from Elrond. The minstrel avoided the Hall of Fire and relinquished all his duties regarding lord Elrond to someone else. He claimed he had enough in his plate and at first, the elves around him believed him so, and this all went on without a hitch for a few weeks, until Erestor had enough and all but dragged his young friend into his office in order to have a long overdue conversation during an overcast morning.

“What is this all about?” Erestor questioned the harpist with a pointed stare, in his hands he held a steaming cup of tea.

“I know not what you could be referring to.” was the simple reply, the minstrel was more than prepared to rebound all of the adviser's questions. “Be more specific if you could.”

“Do not play games with me, Lindir.” the stern one sighed, “You are perfectly aware as to what I do mean. You are avoiding Elrond, why is that? Has something happened between the two of you?”

“Nothing has happened that is worth discussing.” the young attendant attempted to stand up and Erestor stopped him before he could do so.

“You are well aware that you can tell me anything, right?” Erestor stated in a low voice, his worry towards Lindir was more than evident. “We are friends after all.”

The minstrel stood up and gave a nod towards the adviser, “I must leave, I have duties to attend.”

With that said, Lindir tried leaving the office, but Erestor's voice stopped him as he was reaching for the door. “He is becoming suspicious, and also he has been asking after you non-stop.” the adviser announced in a dry tone.

The young elf stood as still as a statue, he was more than aware that there was no way out of the conversation that Erestor wanted to have with him. So, the minstrel resigned himself to having to confess the truth even if he did not necessarily have to, he decided it would help him to get a little weight off his chest anyhow.

“Elrond was not born yesterday Lindir. He knows you have been avoiding him for weeks.” Erestor told the younger elf, “What has happened?”

Lindir sighed loudly, he saw no point in hiding his affliction anymore. At least not from Erestor. “The flowers are blooming within my lungs once more.”

If the chief adviser was surprised, he did not show it. Still, he placed the tea cup on the wooden desk and stared pointedly at Lindir. “How long has this been going on?”

“It matters not how long they have been here for.” Lindir closed his eyes, this was something he had not wanted to talk about unless he had no other choice. The minstrel had wanted to keep the secret for as long as possible. “What is important is that if the flowers are in my lungs once more, we both know what that means.”

“You have to tell him, find a solution together.” Erestor's face betrayed no emotion, yet his stare seemed distant somehow. “You can not possibly go on keeping this from him, this concerns _both_ of you.”

“If I am coughing up flowers it means that what I have always feared has become true...” Lindir countered.

“I do not think this is as you believe it is.” the chief adviser sat down, a pensive expression upon his visage, “There must be another reason for the reappearance of the flowers.”

“The reason is more than evident, you know that perfectly well.” Lindir hissed, his eyes filling up with bitter tears as he readied himself to voice out what has been in his mind for so long. “He is a lord, it was too much of a dream already to pretend he would love me for who I am, let alone for him wanting to remain by my side. My station is too low, I am not worthy of his affections, let alone his love.”

“Lindir it is not how you see it, he truly loves you, I can tell.” the adviser approached the young minstrel slowly and then guided him towards a seat near the window, “I can see it in they way he speaks about you and how he treats you. It is plain for all to see.”

“Then you all must be quite blind. For he loves me not... perhaps he never truly did.” the attendant replied with difficulty, in his head there were those thoughts again, the ones that reminded him of the creatures that lurk in the dark. Cruel and hurtful. “He is probably ashamed as well... having realized that all of this was a mistake...”

_'I am a burden to him.'_ his mind screamed. Those dark thoughts had become more and more prominent lately. Those dark whispers within his head that reminded him over and over how _undeserving_ of Elrond's love he was.

“Elrond has never shown neither shame nor anything other than love when you are mentioned.” the adviser shook his head, “If anything, I would daresay that you are the main reason for him to have that foolish smile plastered upon his lips every day.”

“But Lady Celebrian awaits him in the Undying Lands... I am sure these flowers are a sign that he was reminded of that fact.” Lindir countered. _'Burden. Unloved. Undeserving.'_ his mind screamed. “He... he knows that... realized it, and perhaps does not know how to tell me so.”

“Lindir,” the adviser said firmly, “He loves you and there is so much you do not know yet. You two need to talk. I am sure there is a feasible explanation for the return of the flowers within your lungs, but Elrond not loving you anymore is _not_ the reason. Of that I am more than convinced.”

“How can you be so certain?” the younger elf asked as one of his hands had been placed over his chest as if to lessen the pain of the pangs in his heart, brows creased with worry. On that moment he didn't know what was worse; falling in love alone or knowing he had been just some object the the peredhel had used to pass his time. Or that perhaps Elrond had been with the minstrel because he had felt _pity_ towards him, and now Lindir was just a novelty past its prime.

“It is plain for all to see. Elrond adores you.” Erestor replied with a tone of assurance in his voice.

“You know that is not the truth.” Lindir shook his head as the echoes within his head grew even louder. “At least not anymore.”

_'He does not love me.'_ his mind repeated over and over.

_'I do not deserve his love.'_

_'I do not deserve happiness by his side.'_

_'He has never loved me and he never will.'_

The minstrel's breathing became agitated, he could feel the flowers in the back of his throat, their bitter taste spreading over his tongue. There was not enough air getting into his lungs and he tried to talk but found himself unable to do so.

_'He belongs with Lady Celebrian.'_ His mind screamed loudly, while in his eyes everything else became blurry.

_'He loves me not.'_

_'Loves me not.'_

_'Loves me not.'_

_'He **never** loved me.'_

The constant thoughts that kept on circling within his head felt as if they were daggers digging into his flesh, those -for him at the very least- told the absolute truth about how the peredhel had never truly loved him. And the voices in his mind became louder and louder until he could not stop them. Lindir could hear Erestor calling his name but it all seemed so distant, as if his head was being held underwater. The minstrel felt his throat as it rapidly clogged up with petals, he coughed and coughed but the overwhelming amount of flowers would not stop pouring out of his mouth, a bright carpet of purple petals surrounded Lindir's feet as his vision began to darken. And as the coughing fit went on, the minstrel could neither breathe nor speak; not when his airways were almost completely filled with the purple flowers.

The last thing the minstrel had been aware of, was Erestor's worried visage as he called his friend's name, then tried to reach for Lindir before it all faded to black.

* * *

Lindir was staring at the nearby window when he heard footsteps approaching. He for a moment, assumed they belonged to one of the healers until he heard Elrond's voice.

“After weeks of not seeing you for more than a coupe of minutes a day at most, I am told out of the blue that you collapsed.” the peredhel said, the tone in his voice was quite neutral as he took a seat on a nearby chair, while a serene smile adorned his ageless face.

“My lord.” the minstrel nodded in greeting, he tried to avoid looking directly at the older elf. “It is nothing worth mentioning. I was exhausted, that is all.” his throat began to close up, he felt the flowers wanting to burst out of his mouth, his hands formed into fist and his nails began to dig into his palms. “I am quite sure you have more important things to attend to, my lord.” he refused to call Elrond by name. As if by doing so some distance would come between them and the lord of Imladris would have no other choice than to finally admit to the truth.

_'I am a burden. Unworthy.'_ Lindir's mind whispered.

“That is of course, not true and I would prefer if you would allow me to tend to you.” Elrond said as he placed one of his hands over Lindir's while offering a smile. “If anything, just to put my mind at ease.”

The warmth from the peredhel's hand grounded the minstrel for a moment before he remembered the flowers. At that Lindir denied with his head, he could feel the petals beginning to clog up his throat. “I will be out of here soon enough, my lord. You probably have more important matters to attend to.”

_'Useless. Making the lord of this house waste his time.'_ those were the dark remarks his thoughts offered. Elrond went on talking to Lindir about this and that. What news he had received from Elladan and Elrohir, and a few tales of the latest performances in the hall of fire.

“I do miss your voice and presence, my songbird.” the lord of the hidden valley confessed but Lindir could not hear what he said because his mind kept on reminding him that he was nothing but a servant, that his relationship with Elrond had been doomed from the start, and that he was with him probably out of pity, and in his head the minstrel could hear the dark thoughts constantly and those would not let him be.

“My lord please, I will be out of this bed soon enough.” the minstrel told Elrond. “You should go, for I am sure there are plenty of important things that need your attention.”

When Elrond was about to protest, Glorfindel who had been the one tending to Lindir walked in, much to the minstrel's relief. “Elrond, a good day to you.” the balrog slayer greeted while swiftly moving towards the bed currently occupied by the minstrel.

“And to you as well my friend.” Elrond greeted in reply, yet he was still staring at Lindir.

Lindir simply offered the lord of the Golden Flower a desperate look and the other elf understood immediately, and much to the young attendant's fortune, Glorfindel had somehow managed to convince lord Elrond to leave by assuring him that it had been just exhaustion what had caused the minstrel's fainting spell.

After the peredhel had left, -even though he was unconvinced still- Glorfindel faced Lindir with a grim expression etched upon his face, “You do not wish to let him know about your affliction. That much is obvious.”

“He must never find out.” A grim expression was set upon the minstrel's face as coughed up a few petals that had been logged in his throat. “You must promise not to tell anybody, please. Specially not him.”

“This is endangering your life, Lindir...” he sighed loudly, “But I will be sworn to secrecy if you promise to do something about it; for I can not force you to do something you do not want. And if you must know, and if you decide to do so, it does not necessarily need to be here within the walls of the hidden valley.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, curiosity taking the better of him.

Glorfindel told the minstrel about a certain elf who could be found in Lothlòrien and specialized in cases pertinent to the _Flower Sickness_ , as they had taken to call it. He's warned that it could damage his voice and that he would most definitely lose the memories that were connected to the one that the flowers were blooming for.

Lindir nodded in acknowledgment, _'This is a small price to pay.'_ he thought, and the possibility of losing his voice had somehow left the minstrel unfazed.

The lord of the Golden Flower then tilted his head as Lindir's silence continued, “When _fëa_ and _hrӧa_ lose their harmonious balance this causes issues within us Lindir. That may be the cause for your affliction.”

“Why would you say that?” the harpist asked, his voice was barely above a whisper.

“The flower sickness affects the fёar itself that is why when it begins, causes our soul itself to become out of balance, for it yearns for a connection that can not attain for the moment. Then it begins to affect our bodies and spreads to our lungs and the physical manifestation for it, is the flowers.” the blond elf told the attendant, “And that is why it disappears when a connection with another soul is found, because we find at last harmony. But I have never seen this sickness return. That is why I fear that your heart and mind are out of balance... your heart yearns for something but your mind is trying to go down another path.”

Lindir nodded in acknowledgment to all he had been told, he did not even consider the possibility to take any other action for some reason he felt some sort of urge to go to Lothlòrien. For the minstrel it seemed as a logical step to take. _'But what about Elrond?'_ he mentally berated himself right after he had thought about the question itself, the flower sickness had returned, it was more than evident that the lord of Imladris felt nothing for the minstrel anymore, if anything, taking out the flowers and forgetting all about the peredhel would make things easier for the both of them.

“I need to get to Lothlòrien then.” Lindir whispered more to himself than to the other elf who stood near the bed. _'He does not love me. Perhaps he never has.'_ his mind echoed over and over once more and he gave a small nod at that.

“And you are sure that is the right thing to do?” Glorfindel questioned. “There are more ways to go on about this, I have only told you about one. You should talk to Elrond. Come to an agreement or even find a solution together.”

“What could be the point? My lungs being filled with flowers as we speak is more than an obvious reason to do this, as you said, the connection is _not_ there. Besides, this is the best for all parties involved.” Lindir confessed, his voice trembled a little as he spoke. _'That way I will not be a burden anymore.'_ he then smiled at Glorfindel who stood near the bed and gave Lindir a look filled with sadness.

“Oh, little songbird,” the golden haired elf said to Lindir as he placed one hand over the minstrel's shoulder, “as of late you always smile as if you were about to cry.” with that, the ancient warrior left the minstrel alone with his thoughts.

* * *

The arrival of the commissions from both Lothlòrien and the Woodland Realm had been a blessing of the Valar for Lindir. The increased amount of duties gave the minstrel the perfect excuse to go on keeping his distance from Elrond, and that meant less petals clogging his throat.

He was still determined to get the flowers removed once everything had settled down, for he could not in good conscience leave while the whole Imladris was in such disarray. In his scarce moments of rest, the minstrel found himself wandering about in the gardens. It was in one of those moments when lord Elrond found Lindir, who was sitting near a neat row of flower bushes, a quill in one hand and a couple of scrolls in the other.

“Lindir.” the lord greeted the minstrel and on that moment Lindir thought about a thousand different excuses to give to Elrond so that he could avoid the conversation they were surely about to have, but none made it past his lips. They hadn't spoken in days and right then and there he could feel the flowers at the back of his throat and he prayed to any of the Valar that were listening on that instant that he could avoid spilling any petals in front of the peredhel.

“My lord.” the young attendant inclined his head and avoided the healer's eyes, “A good day to you.”

Elrond moved closer to the minstrel, a smile adorning his face, “To you as well, songbird.” a soft kiss was then placed upon Lindir's forehead and the minstrel felt his heart flutter but for a moment. “I have missed you most dearly during these few days.” the older elf's words were followed by a quiet sigh, “One would think you have been avoiding me.”

_'That is a lie. He did not miss me.'_ Lindir's mind supplied, a short silence followed as he was feeling the petals in the back of his throat once again. “These days we are all being kept quite busy, my lord.” he said as he tried to keep his voice tone neutral.

“That is quite true...” The glint in his lord's eyes told Lindir that there was indeed something else Elrond wanted to say but, that he was also concerned with the minstrel's possible reaction to his words.

_'Is he going to admit it?.'_ Lindir's mind whispered as the attendant prepared himself to hear the words he believed to be true indeed, _'Has he finally come to realize that he does not love me?.'_

“Please walk with me.” the peredhel offered his arm to Lindir so that the minstrel could stand up from the place he had been sitting down. Lindir had been nestled among bushes of hydrangeas, roses and lilies, those flowers reminded the young elf of his old home; his mother used to have them planted underneath the windows and all over the garden.

Lindir accepted the offered help with a small nod and stood up as until he reminded himself that the love he felt needed to disappear. That he was alone with his one-sided affections. That he should remember his station, yet Elrond's words seemed to be full of warmth and genuine affection and for a moment Lindir had hoped for them to be true. But he had been fooled before, and look to where that has led him; his lungs once again affected by the Flower Sickness.

Still he went along, he had nothing left to lose anyway.

Together they spoke as the walk took them to the far edges of the gardens. Both stopped under the shade of a tall tree, there Elrond pointed at Lindir's hands, “What have you in there, Songbird?” he asked with mirth in his voice as the pieces of paper in Lindir's hand moved along with the breeze.

For an instant the minstrel had no idea as to what to reply, but he needed to be fast and the answer he gave was far from the truth and yet quite close to it. “I have been working on a new song.” he found himself just lying through his teeth and hating every syllable he spoke, for he had never truly desired to lie to Elrond of all people.

The peredhel nodded slowly, “Then I am looking forward to listen to this secret song you have been composing.” he said with a distant expression on his face and then added, “For it must be the reason as to why you have been keeping your distance from me these past days. Although it has never mattered how much workload we may have throughout the day, we always do manage to find time for each other.”

“Indeed my lord.” Lindir agreed immediately, “My working on the song is precisely the reason why I have not been able to spend time with you.” the attendant lied once more and lowered his his face, for he feared that the peredhel could see the fallacy in his eyes. “Please, do forgive me.” Lindir whispered, and at hearing that, Elrond placed a couple fingers underneath the minstrel's chin and gently lifted Lindir's face.

“Fret not Lindir.” the healer offered Lindir a reassuring smile, “For I understand.” their eyes staring into each other's and reflecting the light that came through the leaves. They had moved closer and closer without noticing, their lips almost touching and as Elrond's mouth was almost touching Lindir's, the minstrel felt as the flowers began to rush up towards his throat again, he opened his eyes and tried to get away, and for a moment the young minstrel considered running. But then again this could be the last kiss he would ever get from Elrond, a last memory of this one-sided love affair that he would treasure until it was taken away from him.

For what was but a kiss when he was well aware that the lord of Imladris had never truly loved him? The flowers would remain even after their lips were to touch anyway. For the minstrel it would mean both pain as well as relief. The pain of being reminded that perhaps every caress they had ever shared, every whispered word in the midst of a heated love making, that every moment shared in quiet contemplation in each other's presence had been nothing more than a made up illusion on Lindir's part. That he had hoped for so much, he had mostly imagined a reciprocated love that had never been there. That Elrond never loved him and had most likely tried to quell the absence of the Silver Lady with Lindir, and was something that the young minstrel had accepted, and made his peace with.

It was his fault after all. He had _hoped_ , and that had been his greatest mistake. Waking up from the illusion was the worst part yet. He was living through a waking nightmare, a labyrinth without an exit, where despair and sadness were the only things he had for company.

In a lucky turn for Lindir, Glorfindel of all people, came calling for Elrond. Telling him that Erestor had been looking for him and that important documents needed to be revised. When the ancient warrior and the attendant had finally been left alone after Elrond went back to his duties with a low sigh and a promise of speaking with his Songbird later that day, the lord of the House of the Golden Flower smiled at the minstrel, the mischievousness in his expression not lost indeed, “I came to your rescue.” Glorfindel announced.

Lindir nodded in response before he began to cough, and the flower petals began to rain towards the ground. When he regained his composure and was able to talk again he thanked the balrog slayer profusely. “You have my deepest gratitude Glorfindel. You arrived just in time.” the minstrel spoke with difficulty, “I had feared he was going to see the flowers.”

“No need to thank me, my friend.” then the golden warrior pointed at the papers Lindir was holding, “What have you there, little one?”

The minstrel took some time to answer, his throat feeling the soreness that came after coughing up the petals. “I was...” admitting what he had been truly writing was nothing to be ashamed of. At least not in front of his friend, still, saying it out loud made it seem more real than it already was.. “I was writing a farewell letter for him...” Lindir confessed.

“I have noticed that as of late you try not to say _his_ name anymore,” Glorfindel pointed out, “It is as if you are trying to create a rift between the two of you.”

“The rift is already there, it is probably more of a chasm to be honest.” Lindir admitted with a shrug, the bitterness in his tone was easily perceived. “I am just trying to make him admit the truth out loud.”

“And what is exactly that truth that you want him to admit?” The balrog slayer inquired. He knew Lindir was insecure and that all of those doubts the minstrel had were often plaguing his head; and truth to be told, those were most likely to be the cause of all that was happening. The ancient warrior truly wished for the minstrel to see that the relationship with Elrond was not beyond saving; that they both could mend their hearts and find peace with one another once more, that their love was still there underneath all of the apprehension and the distance that had kept them apart for weeks now.

Lindir simply shook his head and began to walk away, as he did he stopped but for a moment and plucked one rose from the garden, “Perhaps the biggest curse in all of this, is realizing that my love was not enough for him. That out of the two of us, the only one with a broken heart is me.” after that the minstrel left and Glorfindel remained rooted to the spot wondering how it all had come to this. Miscommunication, doubt and distance, all three of those factors were poisoning those two and the love they had once held for one another... they could still try once more, but if left to their own devices, if those two were not to finally come together and discuss all that has been happening, if Lindir kept on hiding from Elrond, this would end up in disaster. The golden warrior wondered if Elrond was indeed so blind as to what was currently happening with Lindir or if it was the fact that the minstrel was so good at hiding what he truly felt, and how it all affected him what had kept the lord of the hidden valley at bay.

* * *

A couple days later Erestor managed to get Lindir to sit down with him and share some breakfast. The minstrel looked paler than normal and his tired eyes gave away most of his internal struggles.

As they began to eat silence reigned, this went on up until the point when Lindir finally told Erestor about the healer that Glorfindel had spoken about while the minstrel had been in the healing ward.

“The _what_?” the adviser gave a pointed look at the minstrel, “Please do tell me that I heard wrong.”

“Not at all.” Lindir said, “Glorfindel told me that the healer in question can remove the disease.”

“This is Imladris, most of the best healers in Middle Earth can be found here.” Erestor pointed out, “What makes you think you will find better healing outside of the walls of the hidden valley?”

Glorfindel kept on his silence while the other two went on discussing, but he was more than aware that Erestor would have a few scathing words for him in the not so distant future.

“I am bound to find someone who will help me get rid of the flowers then. No matter where.” the harpist went on. “Besides, I do not want _him_ to find out and news do travel fast around here. Just yesterday a few of the other servants were asking me if everything was fine between the lord of the hidden valley and I.”

“Well, that does happen everywhere no matter the realm.” this time, it was the lord of the golden flower who interjected, he tried to make the tense atmosphere a bit lighter.

Erestor pointedly ignored Glorfindel's words and gave a nod towards Lindir. “You well know that the memory of Elrond would fade away from your mind if the flowers are removed.” he brought the main topic forward once more.

“He loves me not anyway, I see no point on continuing with this charade." Lindir spoke in a detached manner. “I only hope that when he gets to Valinor the lady Celebrian is waiting for him with open arms... that is all I want for him... happiness and real love.”

“Stop talking that way!” the adviser hissed, then pointed a slim finger towards Lindir's face, “You must tell him _everything_. Stop trying to avoid the inevitable.”

“Why are you so persistent that I talk to him?”

“Why are you so stubborn and keep on trying _not_ to talk to him?” the question ended hanging up in the air for a while, like a leaf that falls off a tree and seemingly refuses to touch the ground even though that's to be its final destination. The moment stretched and a dead silence fell between them. “You just want to throw away what has been given to you in kindness and love!” Erestor began to pace around the well decorated room.

“You have no right to say that!” Lindir hissed as he stood up, he was getting tired of the same argument that they often had as of late, and that never accomplished anything; but the adviser's words angered him.

“I will not watch you tear yourself apart over something that can be solved with ease. Doubt can cloud all of the senses with ease, and that is precisely what is happening to you right now.” Erestor sat down near the window, and sighed loudly, it was becoming increasingly difficult to get through Lindir's own sense of self deprecation and uncanny stubbornness. “You are blinded to everything but your own apprehension.”

“I am blind to many things but not to literal flowers growing again within my lungs because the one I love has _stopped_ loving me...” the minstrel put a hand over his chest as he whispered those last words, as if by saying it any louder it would become even more real. “I am not blind to my reality, I simply accept it as should you, even though you speak as if you had the answers to every riddle..” Lindir declared, for he was just tired and just wanted to wake up from this nightmare he was currently living in.

“You are bound and determined to forget about Elrond, but you are yet to have a single conversation with him about his.” the dark haired elf hissed, “You just want to make it all go away in the same way you make the darkness recede by lightning up a candle, but even then the shadows remain around you.”

“I do not wish to keep him chained to me!” Lindir blinked rapidly as the words left his mouth, eyes filling up with tears, the reality of it all weighing up in his heart once more. He felt as if he was a rock sinking towards the dark, cold depths of a lake. “He does not deserve to be tied to someone he loves no longer... that is... something I cannot bear to do anymore. So I chose this, on behalf of the _both_ of us.” by the time he had voiced those words, the minstrel had walked towards the door only to be stopped by Erestor's remark.

“You said it well, _you_ chose, and you did so for the both of you _._ ” Erestor told the minstrel before he had gone through the door, the adviser's voice had been filled with disappointment. “Does Elrond not have a say on this?”

Lindir remained quiet and simply left without giving a single glance back.

Glorfindel waited for an instant to see if Erestor would try to stop Lindir from doing something reckless. After a long moment of silence and idleness from the both of them, the golden warrior said, “Elrond has made no effort whatsoever other than to give Lindir space.”

“He will make an effort, when he finally realizes he could lose him.” Erestor replied, a frown etched upon his usually stoic face. “But it could be too late for him then.”

“You believe Elrond could fade if Lindir goes through with the removal of the flowers?” golden warrior inquired.

“Perhaps...” Erestor gave his husband a saddened smile. “Losing too much can take a toll upon any soul, Elrond himself has lost too many people already. Hopefully they can find a solution and soon.”

For a moment there Erestor began reminiscing about the time back in Gondolin when he had fallen in love for the first time. The adviser had been coughing up marigold petals so bright in color that they were the same color of Glorfindel's golden mane... He had kept his silence and his distance for as long as he could, until one day he could no more. Luck had been on his side for his love had been reciprocated and until this day they were still together, never plagued by uncertainty and never filled with doubt either.

But the adviser knows that it is different for everyone, and he is sure that Lindir's case is not beyond solution, he knows that the minstrel and Elrond only need but a mere conversation without interruptions to finally settle things down, and to hopefully get rid of the flower sickness that plagues Lindir once again.

* * *

_'You do not deserve him.'_ the voice hissed within his mind with every step the minstrel took. _'He never loved you.'_ it went on and on. Lindir shook his head trying to get rid of those dark thoughts, but could not for the love of him manage to do so. _'He does not love you. Never has and never will. You are nothing to him.'_ his mind repeated over and over as he passed through numerous corridors as fast as he could.

Upon reaching his living space, the minstrel saw his reflection on a looking glass he had placed decades ago near the main entrance door and that he pointedly ignored often enough. He had a ghastly appearance, looked tired and paler than normal, it did not come as a surprise that he was reminiscent of a ghost somehow, for he felt as if he was one.

The last hours of the day had passed slowly so as he wandered about his bedroom gathering some clothes. By the time night had fallen upon the hidden valley in a manner akin to a shroud, the minstrel had finished packing and writing a short letter which he left atop of his desk; the neat writing on the envelope addressed said letter to lord Elrond. Lindir took in a deep breath as he laid a purple hyacinth flower on top of the note.

Using the dark of night to his advantage, Lindir made his way towards the stables. Making sure no one noticed his presence had been rather difficult for people often wandered the halls and corridors of the last homely home whether it was day or night. When the minstrel had finally reached his horse and began to make his way outside, he prayed to any of the Valar willing to listen to him for help. Somehow Lindir had managed to avoid the sentries placed strategically near every entrance, and as he finally set foot outside of the boundaries of the hidden valley, he found himself plagued by doubt. Lindir had told himself time and time again that the return of the flower sickness is a sign that had Elrond realized his mistake at giving a chance for a relationship, but what if he was wrong? What if he was leaving for nothing?

“All of this is a mistake.” the harpist whispered to himself as his horse gently galloped across the pastures that carried him further and further away from Imladris. Leaving without seldom a word to anyone and having just left a short letter that explained nothing at all reminded the minstrel constantly of the reason why he had left, Elrond deserved better, and Lindir's cowardice was a sure sign for that. That last train of thought strengthened his resolve and Lindir went on, not glancing back once.

Hours later as midday was approaching, Lindir came across a fork on the road. One of the roads lead to Lothlòrien, the place he had been told he could get the flowers removed and forget about his love for Elrond. And that was a possibility, but the harpist was more than aware that the lord of Imladris would end up mourning for a loved one while they were still alive and he had already gone through that once before. Lindir's heart became heavy as those thoughts bloomed within his mind. Could he be capable of causing such pain to the one he claimed to love? The one he loved so much that he had chose to leave without so much as a farewell? Could he? He may be doubting, but he was also considering the possibility still.

The second one leads to a settlement of men, he could find a place there, sing and play his harp until his lungs were so full of flowers that he was unable to breathe and then simply pass away hidden and unknown in a strange land where no one knew his woes.

The last one leads to the Gray Havens. Lindir figured he could go to Valinor, heal with time and keep his love as a memory. Elrond, Lindir was sure, would forget about him in time... perhaps he already began to do so after the illusion of their love fell apart, at least on the peredhel's side it did. Lindir will carry the memory of that one-side love that was not enough to resit the trial of time. Perhaps it was better this way. Maybe now Elrond would be happy without him. A servant and a lord it had been something that had perhaps been seen before, but the minstrel was aware that it never ended well. He had heard many a song about such. All of them sad affairs that ended in tragedy, amusing at it may be that he was now part of those, though his tale will remain unsung for the time being if not forever. Finding healing in Valinor, where he could live in peace with just the memories of a one-sided love forever seemed a good pick. It was true, those were his memories, he had the choice to let go of them forever or to keep them. But could he do it?

Without realizing it, time had passed rather quickly and Lindir knew that he could stay there and deliberate forever if he must, but he could not go back, it was too late for that.

He picked one of the roads and refused to glance back.


End file.
